


Verdant and Virile

by dianekepler, Ywain Penbrydd (penbrydd)



Series: The Waterverse [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bet you never knew there was such a thing., F/M, Het, Orion chess, Orion girls, Spock didn't either, Starek's got a mouth on him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9964169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dianekepler/pseuds/dianekepler, https://archiveofourown.org/users/penbrydd/pseuds/Ywain%20Penbrydd
Summary: Starek, Spock, and five Orion girls. Let's get some shameless, PWP het up in here.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, most of the non-english words can be moused over for translations. (If we missed any, let us know in a comment, and I'll come fix it.)

It's about four in the morning, ship’s time, when the Orions close in.

Spock is in the guest quarters, meditating. It is one of the few times they’ve seen him out of Starek’s sight; the newlyweds have spent the entire trip so far holed up together, either discussing options for the rest of their honeymoon, or, from the sounds of it, having increasingly inventive sex. 

The engineers know this because they’ve organized themselves into a highly efficient team of spies, dividing up their tasks so that the engine room and bridge remain staffed even while they're gathering intel. They’ve even committed their schedule of listening at bulkheads to memory, rather than have it fall into the hands of Merendith or Stavret, who would no doubt ruin their fun by telling them to stop. 

But the girls have other plans than just listening. And now that the commander and his mate are in separate rooms, it is time to execute those plans. Spock knows nothing of this, of course. He simply opens his eyes to find the unlikely trio of Riena, Kelia, and Larue standing at the foot of the bed, watching him intently.

"Spock- _daeh_ ," says Riena carefully. "Could you help us with a science project?"

"Most certainly." Spock nods and eases out of his lotus position. He is barefoot and clad in just soft pants and a T-shirt. Wearing less clothing, especially on board this ship, is beginning to feel more natural. 

"We can do our experiment right here," says Kelia. "The bed is perfect." 

"Indeed?" Spock displays what he hopes is enough eyebrow for all three of them. 

"Oh, it’s nothing like that," Riena waves and sits down. "Okay, no, it sort of is. Remember how D’nila said we should see if Orion pheromones affect you?"

Larue plops down on Spock’s other side. "We figured it’d be better to test your tolerance instead of being surprised later. We don’t want any trouble like that."

Spock looks around at the three, heartened by their concern. "That is indeed a most logical course of action."

Riena breaks into a smile. "We thought you’d see it that way. Now scootch back."

"Scootch?"

The Orions giggle. "To scootch:" Keila explains, imitating dictionary syntax, "to move the body in order to make room, especially while using one’s well-defined rear end to bear the weight." 

She smiles directly at Spock. Her hair is straighter than that of the others and her body leaner, closer to the Vulcan ideal. But he gazes back unflinchingly. After spending fourteen of the last twenty seven hours engaged in marathon lovemaking with his new mate, he is developing a tolerance for bold statements and bedroom eyes. Also, it is not as if the engineers mean it personally. Orions flirt with everything sentient. 

"So, yeah, scootch back about a meter or so."

Spock obeys, which lets Keila join them on the bed. She places an octagonal game board into what becomes the center of the group. 

"We thought Orion chess might help pass the time. Have you ever played?"

"Orion chess?" Spock inquires, watching Keila remove pieces from compartments in the back of the board. His tone implies he never knew there was such a thing.

"Oh it’s fun," exclaims Larue. "There are four players. And see how each piece has two sides with different symbols? It means some of your pieces can act like others for the first few turns. Then when you reverse them, you see what they really are for the rest of the game. It’s always a big surprise."

"Fascinating," murmurs Spock, thoroughly engaged. "But perhaps it is best to inquire whether what I might experience if your pheromones do in fact begin to have an effect?"

Both girls look at Riena. "Well, I’m not exactly sure," she admits, a finger near her chin. "You're a unique case. Maybe you’ll just feel really turned on. Or maybe there'll be distinct sensations, as if we were doing stuff to you."

"I see." Spock is dubious. "And if such feelings arise?"

"You’ve got to tell us about them." Larue put in. "Like what and where and how strong."

"But the most important part," adds Keila, carefully arranging pieces on the board, "Is that you’ve got to stay here with us for as long as possible. That’ll make everything easier to control, in the long run."

She finishes setting up and looks at Spock expectantly. "Ready?"

He gives a decisive nod. "I am prepared."

"Oh wait, let me go to the bathroom," says Larue, gliding off the bed and sauntering over to the appropriate door. Spock looks after her swaying hips, curious about how all Orion women seem to be able to turn even the simple act of locomotion into a sexual display. 

Once the door hisses shut, Larue assumes a sly expression. She slips her communicator from it’s belt pouch and keys for D’nila’s code. 

"Dee! We got -- I mean, uh, phase alpha complete," she whispers, trying, and failing to give her voice the appropriate level of gravity for covert ops. "You are go for beta-test. I repeat: beta-test is go."

* * *

Starek is changing the sheets, both because Spock insisted and because, if he's really honest, it's high time. He’s tucked in the bottom sheet, taken care of the various families of pillows, and is just snapping out the top sheet when two of his frisky engineers barge in and make flying leaps for the bed. 

" _Riov!_ " D’nila sings, landing sideways. Her impact yanks the sheet right out of Starek’s fingers. "Let us help you."

" _Abilai-hwi_ ," he teases, "that isn’t helping. Besides, I’m fine. Better than fine actually," he appends with an immodest grin. 

Odile sits up. "We’ll we’re not."

"Oh?" The grin fades. 

The youngest member of his engineering crew nods gravely. "We hardly got to see you at all since you came back on board."

"Well there’s pretty good reason for that," Starek fondly ruffles her hair. "Or hadn't you noticed?"

"Oh we noticed," Odile grins. She licks her lips, finishing with her tongue at the corner of her mouth and her head cocked slyly. 

"In fact, we’re jealous." D’nila catches Starek’s hand and runs her fingers under the palm, caressing and tickling. "No fair of Spock- _daeh_ keeping you all to himself."

Odile gets up to twine herself around Starek’s other arm. "Yeah. He’s got to understand -- we saw you first."

"Well, ladies," Starek would have lifted his hands to shrug except both his arms are pinned. "Your _Riov_ does have his duties. One of the burdens of my post, it seems."

Odile snorts, dragging at Starek until he's down on the bed, between them "We didn’t even have any _storytimes_ , with you. D’nila had to tell us everything that went on while you were guests of the Vulcans. And it’s not the _same_."

The Romulan lifts both eyebrows. "Storytimes" is their euphemism for getting filled in after away missions. In more than one sense, of course. 

"You owe us," D’nila purrs, easing him further down onto the bed and dragging a soft finger around the skin near his navel. Starek is shirtless, which makes his torso easy prey. 

The commander thinks it over and supposes he does owe them a little something -- they are Orions after all. So he kisses D’nila and then Odile, who’s fitted herself in on his other side. The younger girl tastes of _lehe’jhme_. She hums into the kiss and claims Starek’s groin with one of her slim thighs.

"Not hard for us yet, _Riov_?"

He outright laughs at them. "Ladies. What do you think Spock and I have been doing in here all this time, knitting?" 

"We don’t _know_. That’s the _problem_. I mean, for all you tell us, you could have just been doing this," and D’nila gets one of his fingers between her lips. She sucks hard, twisting her mouth until his entire hand is flipped over, and then drags her teeth along the captured digit as she pulls back. 

"Or this," Odile kisses him again, using her nimble lips to pull his lower one down, trapping it and sucking sweetly. Then she dives in, cooing, kissing him so longingly it sends ripples of pleasure down into his sleeping cock. It helps that she's moving her knee around on him, too.

When she at last breaks off the kiss, Starek looks up at the girls with a dreamy kind of expression on his face. "You _did_ miss me."

They decline to answer, except with more kissing and touching. Next they join lips above him, gazing wolfishly down out of the corners of their eyes. The sight of those full lips, pink tongues sliding -- he lets out a groaning kind of sigh, wondering how far he can go and not get into trouble. He has no idea where Spock lies on the jealousy scale, and he can live without having his spine reshuffled by his new and very strong husband. 

At the feel of D’nila’s fingers on his fly, working at the fastenings, Starek breaks out of his trance. The engineers, he realizes, aren’t messing around. 

"Uh, Dee," he works a hand free and tries to stall her, but Odile claims the hand, fitting her tongue into the webbing between his fingers. He hisses and gasps, open-mouthed. There's something to be said for not taking your time. Still -- 

"This is _eaha_ , you know, but when Spock comes back -"

D’nila eyes him with a laugh like wind chimes. "Spock has already agreed to play with the other three. They're together right now."

Starek rights himself, with a squawk of protest, dislodging Odile who falls into what becomes his lap. "You _didn’t_ !" A streak of jealousy shoots through him. That's _his_ Spock they're crawling on. 

Odile eases him back down. "Oh yes we did."

He sits up again, this time excited by the possibilities. "Let’s go see!"

Both Orions push him back down, this time more firmly.

"No," D’nila insists as she drags the pants off his hips. "It’s our turn now." The younger girl helps and, between the two of them, they have him naked in no time. 

But then something occurrs to Starek and he sits back up with a will, finger pointed accusingly. "Now, wait just a hydrogen-lifted minute. Why does he get three of you?"

D’nila shrugs. "Spock’s new." 

Finding no further resistance, she climbs in behind her commander, sweeping her firm, high breasts across his back and running her tongue along the edge of his ear. "But we missed _you_ the most."

The shortest of the engineers is down between his legs now and the feeling of Odile’s nose against his closed genital slit is enough to elicit another groaning sigh. "I’ll remember that when it’s time for . . . holiday bonuses." 

At this point he sags against D’nila and gives up. Not that he ever fights much at times like this, something the girls not only know but probably banked on, the little minxes. 

Odile is pressing kisses onto him now. He knows how much she loves his slit, especially when it's closed, having gotten the intriguing description of 'girl-part hiding boy-parts', when he asked her about it, once. He loves it when she runs the flat of her tongue along the little ridge of skin where he seals. She also knows how to tickle it with her lashes, and tease it apart with her lips to go dipping down inside, with gentle flicks of her tongue, to tease and taste him until he makes helpless, choked sounds. 

Meanwhile, the chief engineer is having her way with Starek’s hands. She has one in each of her own. The right one is alternately brushing and raking his palm. The left is playing with the sensitive skin near his nail-beds. Orion multitasking. There really isn’t anything better. Who else in the universe can work on both his hands and his neck, while keeping up that exotic boob massage at the same time? Orions are, in fact, the shit and a rollicking case of ass-pox to anyone who denies it.

Satisfied with the current level of mayhem, Odile interrupts her tongue-bath long enough to unbutton her fancy shirt, coming up onto her knees to slide the ruffles down her glowing skin. She is an angelic little demon with her lower lip caught in her small, white teeth, eyes drilling into Starek in a way that leaves no doubt he is at her mercy. D’nila is still dressed -- but not completely. Starek can feel her bare nipples against his back, where she skims them along, teasing him, even as she gentles her tongue into the sweeping curve where his neck meets his shoulder. 

When Odile gets back down, crouching on her folded legs, it gives Starek the sudden idea of needing, really needing, a mirror at the foot of the bed. What a sight that would be, with D’nila behind him and Odile’s ripe, perfect ass in the foreground, peeking out from under her miniskirt and around the strap of her inevitable thong. 

The head of his cock is peeking out now, and Odile is lapping at it like it's some kind of fruity dessert. She slides her tongue once more around the perimeter and then takes him in that easy three-fingered grip that all his engineers learned within a single day of Riena discovering it, the result being that he extends with no fuss, smooth and slick, sliding along her jaw and leaving a trail so that one of her cheeks is shiny when she pulls back and gives him a dimpled smile. 

"Like that, _Riov_?" D’nila husks at him from behind. "You know _saj-rinam_ likes it. She’d take a bath in your essence if she could." 

A thrilling wave engulfs Starek as he imagines what they might have to do to get him lubricate that much. He suddenly finds himself wanting to give hr that bath, just as much as he wants the mirror. 

" _Hlai’vna_ ," the senior tech calls to her crewmate, "Show us how much you like it."

Odile looks down at the two of them and then at her own hips, where the sides of her thong peep out above the waistband of her skirt. She undoes first one snap, then the other, smiling hungrily at Starek as her gaze drags over him. To finish, she pulls the scrap of fabric up and out from behind her, tossing it away with a little flourish. But when she gets up to zip out of her boots, Starek stops her.

"Leave them," he breathes, his eyes on where the leather gives way to sleek calf. Damn the sheets. Damn them to the special hell they had for rapists and counterfeiters of Romulan ale. He’d change those sheets a thousand more times for the chance to see Odile just keep those boots on. 

Odile puts her tongue up near one of her canines. "Of course, Sir." 

And then she climbs back aboard -- right into, or more precisely, right over his lap. 

She kneels above him, tucking the hem of her skirt into its waistband. He could maybe make contact if he reached, but D’nila has fitted a knee into each of his palms, pinning them near his sides. He could also maybe brush her if he lifted his hips, but D’nila has her hands firmly in place on top of those, as well. So instead, Odile touches herself. She strokes through her lush little garden and on into the petals, parting them with cooing little sighs and pouting like it’s been a long time since she’s had any fun. It's a front, of course. The girls take care of each other pretty much every shift change and sometimes more often than that. But a sex-deprived Odile is an exciting concept for Starek, and a blight on her slave-trading ancestors, she knows it. 

"Do you want what she’s got for you?" comes D’nila’s maddening taunt as Odile cants her hips out towards both of them. She puts one hand up into her full, wavy hair and gazes down at him in what might be the most devastating look since her progenitors started growing eye-stalks. 

"Want that?" D’nila whispers, "Nnn, so hot and tight."

Starek swallows and makes more incoherent sounds.

"You know she’s ready for you."

_Fuck yes_ , Starek thinks. Her fingers are shiny with her readiness. He’s also been smelling it for way too long now and just jerking his hips is getting him nowhere. But, he is a problem-solver, and this is a problem that needs to be solved. He drops his shoulders and leans forward, catching Odile's nipple in his teeth. Her fingers dig into his shoulders in shock, as she twists back, surprised, with a squeal. He smirks around his prize, rolling his eyes up, as though he'll be able to see past her chin, in this position.

"You know what I want," he purrs, tongue flicking across the flesh between his teeth with every syllable.

She pouts at him, but he doesn't let go until she sinks gracefully down onto his erection and gives him the quick triple-clench that's her trademark. 

* * *

Spock gasps and clenches his eyes shut, struggling for control. This latent heat in his vitals is most unsettling, more so because it is also in his mind, seemingly entering via the bond he shares with Starek. But this is an illogical notion and he dismisses it. 

"Poor baby," Larue murmurs, concern in her eyes. There is another emotion present as well, however Spock is unfamiliar with Orions and therefore at a loss to place it. 

"Where is it now?" Keila probes. 

He fists his hands, gazing down at the chessboard and its soothing straight lines. His mind is a tumult of curves and fluidity. He tries thinking of formulas but the first that come to mind are the time-dependent [Navier-Stokes equations](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Navier%E2%80%93Stokes_equations) and that just makes everything worse. 

"The sensations are chiefly . . . here, " he gestures at his forehead and then, hesitantly, at his pelvis. "They have strengthened here, as well."

Riena leans forward with a knowing grin. "Sorry Spock. You'll have to be more specific than that."

* * *

Odile, having bounced happily around on Starek's tool for a good quarter hour, gives a come-hither wave to D'nila, who leans forward, listens to her whispered directions, and then dismounts Starek's face to stand up and strip the rest of the way. Naked, she slides in behind Odile, straddling Starek's legs, as well. The younger girl decouples once D'nila is settled. 

"Hey," Starek blinks, grumbling in a dazed sort of way. "Stopping. Bad."

"We're not," Odie says sweetly. He's resting in the valley between her asscheeks and she wiggles her hips to tease him. 

"Come on, _Riov_ , when have we ever," D'nila puts her hands on Odile's hips and presses her mound into the younger girl's cleft, sandwiching him neatly, "left you needing anything?"

The captain groans, long and low, They're right of course. And D'nila's mound is as smooth as a _pla-savas_ rind. When did she accomplish that little trick? Fuck him blue and sideways, did they plan this out in _advance?_

Whatever's going on, the combination of D'nila's bare mound and Odile's bare ass is proving devastating to his thought processes, especially when the latter reaches around to push Odile's soft little tits up and together, thumbing the nipples and making the younger girl mewl and lean back to brush her lips across D'nila's cheek. _Fuck._ He grabs somebody's thighs and pushes up between them, pistoning into the hot, juicy tunnel they've made. It's not as tight as either of them, but it's fun in lots of unexpected ways, like when D'nila puts a few fingers down to gently pinch the tip of him every time he gets to the top. 

But, as always, the girls are one for changing things up and before he knows it, Starek finds himself sweetly inside D'nila who's moving easily on his hips now as Odile climbs off and returns to where D'nila was, lowering herself down over Starek's face. He licks his lips in anticipation but his eyes are still on D'nila who's unusually tight this evening. But it's only after his vision is finally cut off by Odile's wet heat that the vibrator, which must have been up D'nila's ass the whole damn time, starts up, pulsing through her walls in a soft but complicated rhythm that doesn't match his at all. Or D'nila's. Or Odile's, who's grinding herself into his face as he tongue-fucks her, hands clamped around her thighs like a drowning man. 

It's only because he's been hard for for so much of today, Starek realizes, that he has any hope of withstanding this attack without popping off like a damn teenager. Thank the universe for horny Vulcans. And Orions, though they might be the end of him, someday. 

But then something else happens. The bond, always there now, humming at the back of his mind, suddenly flares and engulfs his whole brain with pleasure. It's like Spock started thumbing his hypothalamus, or sucking on it, or something. Or it's like -- and at once it's clear -- his mate is being fucked silly by three green girls and Spock just lost control, broadcasting his thoughts and feelings on speakers cranked to eleven. 

And that's Starek's last complete thought before everything dissolves into soft emerald haze. Sounds get echoey and his other senses get overlaid with things that aren't there -- things like Larue's red hair in his hands and Riena's monster purple strap-on. He'd know that thing anywhere. She bought it to match the color scheme in his quarters and -- great gallivanting primates -- she's making Spock suck it. And he's taking it deep; Starek can feel the bulge of it in his own throat in time with the push of Keila's slick, insistent fingers at his other end. All this while Larue is still sucking, D'nila's clenching is rivalling the strength of the buzzing toy, and Odile's still riding his face and squealing with that happy note that lets Starek know she's coming again. 

The inside curve of her leg muffles his panting shout as he arches, spilling what might be the last jizz of his life into D'nila's hot cunt. Death by Orions . . . not a way he thought he was gonna go. And then blacks out or thinks that he must have because next he's tucked in beside Spock with the blankets up around them and Merendith is leaning over them with a frown of galactic proportions.

She finishes her scan, clips the wand back into it's holder on the side of her medical device, and then promptly leans forward to whack Starek upside the head. 

"Fuck, ow!" He looks dismayed. "Great buggering assblight! What in the effervescent void of space was that for?"

"Only you, _S'thora_ ," she grunts shaking her head, "could get that close to killing yourself just by having sex. Suffocation, fluid aspiration, and damn me thrice if I even know what kind of brain damage you have. Those spikes in your theta waves are not something I've ever seen. Maybe I'll get lucky and find that this episode killed the stupid out of you. Also your damned Vulcan hasn't woken up, yet. Some kind of sensory overload, if you ask me."

"Spock . . ." Starek leans over his mate who is socked into an unresponsive slumber. He rears back and faces the engineers who are all in a row, dressed now, and looking sheepish. 

"We're sorry, _Riov_ ," offers D'nila. 

"We really didn't-"

Starek snatches at Spock, clutching the Vulcan to his chest, as his lips peel back in a near-feral snarl. He sits up straighter, leading with his chin, until he is ramrod straight, his face expressionless. "You do not play with my toys, without my permission. I will not _give_ my permission if you persist in this habit of breaking what is mine. This? Is mine. It is also..." His cheek twitches, and his eyes falter, for a moment. "...broken."

He stares icily at the assembled parties, looking for signs of argument, but they are all stiff-lipped and silent. "Good. Now, where's Stavret?"

"Manning the bridge," Merendith counters pointedly. "Or did you forget this isn't just your own floating cathouse?"

Starek raises an eyebrow at his medic, "You're telling me this was my fault? For once, I'm going to have to decline the credit, Doc." He hangs onto Spock who stirs sleepily in his arms. 

"You slept with them in the first place," Merendith snaps back. "I told you -- don't encourage them."

"Of course I slept with them. They're _Orions_. And, hey, here's an idea. What if you got off that blue-blooded baboon-butt and tried it? Might keep you from socking every man you can lay hands on." 

"Mere- _daeh_ , that's a great idea," Riena brightens. "The _Riov_ won't let us play with Spock anymore, and Starvret's no fun. He even fainted when we all came running onto the bridge."

Merendith rolls her eyes. "I was _there,_ don't you remember? And of course he fainted. All five of you were naked -- or nearly."

"We only -"

"Yes, I know," Merendith waves at her. 

" _Tal-kam_?" Spock's eyes flutter open and he glances up at Starek, his first words confused. "I am just now waking from a singularly illogical dream."

"Really?" Starek murmurs at him, catching on. His eyes blaze at everybody over the top of Spock's head, beaming a high-intensity GTFO at them all. 

"Indeed. It was most pleasurable, yet also disquieting."

"Tell me your dream, _k'diwa_ ," he murmurs huskily as the women slip out, for once blissfully silent. "I'm finding myself terribly curious, just now."


End file.
